


A Familiar's Permission

by Evandar



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Basilisk Nagini, Creature Voldemort, Implied Nagini/Voldemort, M/M, Not Canon Compliant - Movie 2: Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald, Protective Nagini (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:13:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27030997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evandar/pseuds/Evandar
Summary: Nagini observes a meeting between Marvolo and one of his servants.
Relationships: Severus Snape/Voldemort
Comments: 3
Kudos: 138
Collections: Creature Fest 2020 - Quarantine Creature Comeback





	A Familiar's Permission

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to DIG for being such a patient mod. It’s very much appreciated! Thanks also go to S and R for their work getting this fic up to scratch – any remaining errors are mine alone.

The servant kneels at Marvolo’s feet, with his head bowed and his hair falling in his face. He’s one of the favoured ones, though the taste of his fear suggests he’s not particularly confident about it. It’s bitter on her tongue, like the herbs and body-parts he uses to brew potions for Marvolo’s cause, and the taste makes her shift, restless, against Marvolo’s side.

He drops his hand to her head, scratching idly at her scales to settle her. He’s ignoring his servant, for now – a game, of sorts. A reminder that Marvolo is the one with the power. She leans into the touch.

The servant remains still. Gradually, the rectangle of sunlight on the carpet travels across the room to the rock Marvolo conjured for her use. She goes to it, slithering past the servant; tasting the spike of his terror. He still doesn’t move.

 _“Such an obedient pet,”_ she hisses. Her rock is warm and pleasant on her scales. She flexes her coils as she settles, relishing the scrape. She’s due to shed soon; her scales are dull and dry.

 _“I am fond of him,”_ Marvolo admits.

She studies him. Her Marvolo. He’s not as human as he used to be, when he first hatched her. His rituals have stripped him of that weakness and have left him as something closer to a predator. Closer to _her_. But really, for all his fangs and scales, he’s still the sad little human child that wanted a friend so badly that he had to make one.

She lets her eyes close as Marvolo chooses to finally acknowledge the man at his feet. She basks in the warmth of her patch of sun, and in the weight of Marvolo’s magic. She cracks open an eye as their voices raise. The servant is shouting, his blood flushing his face while his hands tremble in his lap, clenched to fists.

Such impertinence is usually unacceptable. Ordinarily, Marvolo would hiss at her to open her second eyelid and end his life. He does not. 

Marvolo is silent. His expression oddly fixed. His eyes are wide, as though _he_ is the one with the lethal stare.

The servant remains alive. Marvolo has magic and venom, but they go unused. She hisses a soft query, and the servant falls silent at the sound. He pales rapidly, as if he’s only just realised the liberties he was taking. The favour he carried is lost – it must be. Marvolo does not tolerate such foolishness as a _wizard_ believing themselves to be his _equal_.

Nagini recognises enough human sounds to know an apology when he hears one, choked out as if the man has tried to speak around a mouse in his throat. Marvolo will act now, she thinks. He will strike with the spell that makes his servants scream. He will…

He reaches out and pets the man as if he were Nagini, sliding his talons through dark hair and caressing that long, narrow face. She lifts her head properly, flickering out her tongue to taste the air. The servant still tastes of fear, but there is a heavier undercurrent to it now, similar to the taste of the female servant.

The conversation that follows is much quieter, though Nagini keeps close watch in case the servant starts shouting again. He does not. He raises a hand instead, brushing his fingers against Marvolo’s as if he can’t quite believe he’s being touched by one so great.

When he’s dismissed, he leaves the room on stiff legs. His hands are still shaking and, after he closes the door behind him, there’s a muffled thud from the hallway as if he’s fallen.

 _“Did you poison him after all?”_ she asks. _“I was wrong when I called him obedient.”_

She flicks her tail. Maybe, if he has been poisoned, Marvolo will let her eat him. She’s not _particularly_ hungry, so close to her shedding, but she feels as if she could make an exception for one so rude.

Marvolo sighs. He doesn’t sound angry. It’s closer to the sound he makes whenever he talks about Hogwarts. _“He cares for me,”_ he says. 

_“As all your servants should,”_ she tells him. _“But if he cares, why shout? Does he not know the vibrations are uncomfortable?”_

 _“Shouting and telling people that they’re idiotic is how Severus shows affection,”_ Marvolo tells her.

Nagini thinks about it. Perhaps this Severus is a bit like herself – she often calls Marvolo a foolish hatchling, mostly when he’s done something dangerous or experimental with his magic. Still. She doesn’t like it. Marvolo is _her_ foolish hatchling.

 _“What was he being affectionate about, then?”_ she asks. It comes out as a grumble, and Marvolo laughs at her for it. He rises from his chair and approaches her, his bare feet barely making any vibrations. When he reaches her, he lowers himself to the floor by her side. His scales glint in the sunlight, and she wonders – as she often does – what life would be like if he was even less human and even more serpentine.

He would be a good mate, her Marvolo, if he was a little less reckless. Their hatchlings would have powerful venom. Unfortunately, despite his rituals, he retains two legs and occasional human stupidity, making him entirely unsuitable.

“Severus was reminding me how unreliable prophecies are,” Marvolo says. He scratches behind her eye, and she leans into the touch, closing her eyes and hissing with pleasure. _“One of the targets – a mother of my potential ‘vanquisher’ – is an old friend of his. He wished to save her, and to save me.”_ He sighs again, that same, soft sigh as before, and she cracks her eye back open to study him.

Has this Severus-servant made her Marvolo ill? She asks. He laughs at her again, which she takes as a negative response. She tightens her coils on her rock as he tells her about prophecies of old: of fallen kingdoms and sons mating with their own mothers. 

_“By reminding me that the prophecy is a distraction, Severus was keeping me safe,”_ he finishes. _“No one has ever tried to protect me before.”_

Yes, her Marvolo is still a sad, lonely little human in some ways. And while he is completely unsuitable for _her_ , she can be generous. On this occasion, at least. If Severus-servant takes it as permission to shout at her Marvolo again, she’ll kill him regardless.

 _“He would make a good mate,”_ she tells him.

Marvolo bares his fangs in a grin. _“Yes, my dear,”_ he replies. _“I quite agree.”_


End file.
